


Sparks of a Fire

by Shiningheart_of_ThunderClan



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Allegiances are the same so I'm not gonna bother with those, An Into the Wild rewrite, F/M, Violence is going to be a little above what canon is but not too bad, referenced homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 17:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15668190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiningheart_of_ThunderClan/pseuds/Shiningheart_of_ThunderClan
Summary: "Fire alone will save our Clan, but it needs a Spark to ignite." Delilah isn't like her brother, Rusty. She's meaner, edgier, and more prone to using her claws than her words. But nothing will stop her from following her brother into the forest, even if she has to bully her way in!





	1. Into the Wild 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for a couple of months. It's unedited, so point out any mistakes to me and I'll fix them!
> 
> A few things to note for this story: I'm going to make some references to Bluestar's Prophecy. Things like the older cats' personalities and familial relationships. Also Delilah is going to know some... harsher language than Firepaw does. It will be explained in future chapters why.
> 
> That should be it. If I think of anything else, I'll edit these notes. Enjoy the first chapter of Sparks of a Fire!

_The sky was a bright blue and the air was warm. It was the kind of day that was clearly meant for being lazy, but here is where Delilah found herself, dashing headlong through foresty undergrowth. She weaved back and forth under bramble and fern and gorse, determination mixing with a kind of pulsating fear that she’d never known before. She was searching for someone, someone important, and was terrified of what she would find._

_Thing is, she didn’t know who she was looking for. Some innate part of her knew it wasn’t her brother, Rusty. But who else could it be? It certainly wasn’t Smudge, the pudgy furball from next door. Unless this dream was an alternate reality where she actually liked the idiot, but that was ridiculous._

_A sharp cry from ahead made her heart stutter and she roared out, “NO!”_

“NO!” Delilah jolted up, heart pounding and eyes wide. It took her only a moment to realize she was in her housefolk’s kitchen. Her brother was gone, but she had a feeling she knew where he was. She growled and grumbled but hauled herself shakily upward to search him out.

The fresh air made her relax muscles she hadn’t even known were tensed. Stars glittered up in an inky black sky, and crickets chirped a soothing lullaby. Delilah closed her eyes and tipped her head up, bathing in the moonlight like she would the sun.

“Delilah!” A whine escaped her before she could stop it. There went her peace. Delilah opened her eyes into a glare and fixed it on the fat black and white known as Smudge. Smudge’s eyes were wide, and his pelt seemed a little more bushed up than usual. Like he was actually afraid of something. Or maybe, afraid for someone? “Rusty went into the woods and hasn’t come back out yet!”

Okay, so maybe he really DID have a reason to be freaking out. Delilah let out a groan and hung her head, debating mentally if she should go after him. Bah, who was she kidding, of course she would. Freaking Rusty, freaking forest, freaking Smudge. “I’ll go get him. For now, Smudge, go home. Whatever adventure Rustbucket thinks he’s having, you’ll hear about it tomorrow.”

Smudge looked relieved, and Delilah didn’t even try to not roll her eyes. Like he would have actually went in. She took off in a trot, tail flicking irritably behind her. When she found Rusty she would claw his ears off for being so stupid. The forest was a dangerous place, even going beyond the rumors of wild cats. There were foxes and badgers and owls that could carry off a kitten his size. Who would protect him if she wasn’t there?

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A blur of red was hurtling towards her, zigzagging between the bushes. Delilah was about to call out for him when a gray blur started chasing him. Protective instincts surged and she darted forward, a yowl bursting from her throat. “GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY BROTHER.”

The moment she and Rusty got close enough, he went low and she went high, jumping right over him to bowl over this… apparently animated furball, because fur was all she had in her mouth when she chomped down on it. It was a living cat, that much was proved when a shocked ‘mrow’ met her ears but dear Gods, did someone cast a magic spell to bring a hairball to life? Because that’s what her initial thought was.

Her opponent twisted to throw her off and she let go willingly, rolling onto the ground to leap to her paws between Rusty and his attacker. It was an incredibly fluffy tom. He seemed to be about their age, being still incredibly small. Strange thing was that as soon as she got between them, he seemed to calm down. Whatever aggression he had seemed to have disappeared. “Gotta admit, wasn’t expecting reinforcements. For a kittypet you’ve got a pretty fierce bite!”

Delilah spat out bits of fur and made a disgusted face. “If I cough up a furball I’m finding you and stuffing it down your throat.” she growled. Dismissing him momentarily, she rounded on the panting Rusty and aimlessly swiped a sheathed paw at his head, not really trying to hit him. “And you! You’re lucky you’re my brother, or else I’d leave you here to get your pelt torn up. What were you thinking? How many times do I have to tell you, if you’re going somewhere new to explore, take me with you! I know you can protect yourself decently enough but we both know I’m the better fighter! If you get into trouble and I’m not there to get you out of it, _bad things will happen Rusty_. Mainly because you’re like eighty percent of my impulse control.”

His ears had been flattened sheepishly all throughout her rant, but now he flicked one up with an amused quirk of his lip. “Only eighty? Remember that time you thought it was a great idea to sneak up on old Bruno while he was sleeping to yowl REALLY LOUDLY in his ear? Remember how he chased you up a tree and _I_ had to rescue _you_ by playing distraction while you jumped from the tree to the fence? Any of this ringing a bell? Because _I_ certainly remember it.”

They scowled at each other for a few moments before the gray kitten started snickering. “You guys are funny!” Delilah exchanged a sheepish glance with Rusty. She'd actually almost forgotten about their audience. “My name's Graypaw, and I’m an apprentice of ThunderClan!”

Delilah blinked again. She’d heard of Clans before, from both strays and other house cats she’d met. The former claimed the Clan cats as greedy and closed minded, chasing away and belittling anybody who doesn't follow their way of life. The one or two house cats that actually knew about the wild cats called them terrible bloodthirsty savages, eating live rabbits in one bite and sharpening their claws on the bones of their victims. 

It was complete crap, of course. She’d seen rabbits before, on other lawns around town. No way any cat, not even a wild one, could fit one of those squealing flailing suckers in their mouth. And if that part wasn’t true, it would stand to reason that the latter wasn’t either, right?

Rusty apparently hadn’t even heard of those rumors before, if the confused look on his face was anything to go by. It was that look Graypaw focused on. He gave the hiss of someone whose pride had been wounded, a sound Delilah knew intimately well, and proceeded to dump a whole load of unimportant information on him. Unimportant because they were leaving soon and would never see Graypaw again.

Rusty seemed fascinated, transfixed as he was by Graypaw’s stories. Delilah rolled her eyes but let him have his fun, choosing to sit instead to the side and keep guard. Just because Graypaw wasn’t hostile anymore didn’t mean the danger had passed. Her ears twitched with each new sound she encountered, and her eyes swept across the surrounding bushes for the slightest disturbance.

A new scent came to her, one she didn't know, and Delilah tensed at the same time Graypaw did. “I smell cats from my Clan!” Graypaw looked back the way he had come, prompting Delilah to follow his gaze. She didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything there. “You two should go.”

For the first time since she’d met him, Delilah was in agreement. “Come on Rustbucket, fun’s over. Time to leave.” She surged to her paws and got behind Rusty, using her nose to steer him in the direction of the fence. “Nice to meet you Graypaw, hope to never see you again, bye!” Before the two kittypets could get very far, someone stepped in the way. Two someones, really.

The first was a blue-gray she-cat. Her muzzle was silvered with age, but her blue eyes still glinted with a fierce light. She was smaller than her companion, but that made her no less formidable. Delilah knew instinctively that this was not a cat to cross. She had multiple scars all across her body, but there was a distinct nasty looking one across her shoulders that made Delilah wonder how she could have possibly survived it.

The other was a golden tabby tom. He stood a head taller than the she-cat, putting the tips of her ears at just his chin. It meant that he practically dwarfed Delilah, who was the smallest of the cats currently gathered. His eyes were yellow and currently aimed at Graypaw, sharp and disapproving. The most curious thing about him was the extra fluffy scruff that wound around his neck, like a lion’s mane.

Delilah took all of this in the span of a few seconds, and immediately got between them and her brother, inadvertently also shielding Graypaw from the tom’s gaze. The she-cat spoke first, her tone at once frosty and calm. “And what, exactly, is going on here?” Her gaze flickered between all three young cats before settling on Delilah.

Good, that was what she wanted. Delilah met her gaze evenly, not backing down even when she heard Graypaw’s explanation about this she-cat, Bluestar, being the supposed leader of his Clan. With a stare like that, she could believe it. “Absolutely nothing of interest. My brother and I got turned around and Graypaw was just escorting us home. So sorry to have been a bother, we’ll be leaving now.”

She started to go around the two older cats, subtly flicking her tail for Rusty to follow, but the she-cat swiftly got in the way. “I think not, young one. You will leave when I permit you to leave and not a moment before.”

Delilah growled low in her throat. Leader or not, who did this she-cat think she was?! Delilah would go wherever she wanted to go whenever she wanted to, and no forest fleabag would tell her otherwise! She dropped into a crouch with her tail lashing about furiously behind her. The tension rocketed in the clearing, kittypet and Clan leader staring each other down to see what the other would do first, when a whisper of her name made Delilah’s ear twitch. 

She risked a glance behind her and felt annoyed resignation. Rusty and Graypaw had dropped into crouches far more submissive than hers, and both were staring at her with wide, panicked eyes. Rusty’s ears were pinned back, and he looked at her with a wordless plea to just back down.

It went against everything Delilah stood for, but eventually she sighed loudly before shifting back on her haunches to sit with a loud ‘thump’. “Let’s get one thing straight.” she growled, pointing at Bluestar with a paw. “I’m not staying because you want me to. I’m staying because Rusty wants me to. Huge difference. I am not afraid of you.”

Bluestar stared at her unblinkingly for another three heartbeats before murmuring, almost to herself, “No, I don’t believe you are.” Delilah blinked. If she didn't know any better, she would almost call that a curious tone, almost contemplating. But before she could think more on it, Bluestar spoke again, this time addressing the two toms behind. “Rise, the both of you.” Rusty and Graypaw did so, looking like they were expecting to be clawed any second. Bluestar didn’t speak for a long moment. “All three of you displayed good qualities tonight, unexpected qualities.”

Lionheart finally piped up, having been quiet this entire time. “Graypaw. Though you should not have been so close to Twolegplace,” and here he gave a reproachful look that melted into a warm one, “you attacked the intruder bravely, despite not knowing how many there were.”

The praise was as unexpected as it was heartily welcomed. Graypaw swelled up to almost double his size, fur and all. Delilah gave a little roll of her eyes, and the motion was caught by Bluestar. Bluestar narrowed her eyes in warning, and in response Delilah gave an even bigger roll of her eyes. Personally she thought Graypaw had given up too easily, but hey, what did she know?

The next ‘compliment’ went to Rusty, and came from Bluestar. “You, kittypet, have sharp eyes. You would have caught that mouse had you been a little quicker. A natural hunter, I would think. Perhaps even a good one, with a bit of training.”

… Training? Oh, Delilah got a bad feeling about that. Apparently it was her turn now, though. “You came running to your brother’s aid without question, and shielded him from further threat. You’re a protector, not a trait I would have expected from a kittypet.”

Delilah narrowed her eyes into slits until only a bit of bright green showed.“So glad you think so. Can we go now? Only, Rusty has a friend waiting for him, and, well, I just don’t like you.” She put as much 'I'd say I'm sorry but I'm actually not' into her voice as she could. Just so they didn't get the mistaken idea that she actually cared."

There was a sharp hiss and a slightly pained whimper behind her. This time Delilah didn’t dare look away from the adult cats. Lionheart looked like it was physically hurting to not swat at her while Bluestar appeared… Actually a little amused? “Well, I can’t fault you for being dishonest.” She meowed dryly. She gestured once for Lionheart to calm down. “Just one more question. We’ve been watching the two of you, and wondering how you would fair in the wild. Often we would see your brother,” and here she flicked her gaze to Rusty before looking back at Delilah, “looking into the forest. You, you’ve never given more than a cursory glance in our direction. So, tell me, what brings you to our territory now?”

Was she serious right now? Yes, yes she was. So without further thought, Delilah pointed at Rusty. “Followed him, met Graypaw, beat him up. That’s about it.” That didn’t seem to satisfy anybody, so she continued with a very put-upon sigh. “You’re right, the forest never fascinated me like it did my brother. We’ve both had dreams of it, but I’ve never had that yearning he has. I get my fill of adventure by exploring the rest of the town. The one thing we have in common is that yearning for freedom. Despite that, I go where he goes. If Rustbucket thinks traipsing about the woods is a good plan, then into the woods I go.”

Bluestar hummed and exchanged looks with Lionheart that Delilah couldn’t decipher. There were subtle twitches and expressions that spoke of a long companionship, and Delilah was almost envious of their obvious bond. Finally, Bluestar looked at the up-till-now mostly ignored Rusty. “And you? We’ve seen your attempts to catch birds and the restlessness in your paws. What finally brings the curious kittypet into our territory?”

Perhaps he’d been bolstered by how almost friendly the Clan cats had been, but Rusty said possibly the stupidest thing he could have said in that moment. “I only came to hunt for a mouse or two before going home. Surely there are enough to go around?”

Delilah gaped at him even as Bluestar and Lionheart immediately started bristling with sudden aggression. Even Graypaw was looking at him in horror. “There’s never enough to go around! If you didn’t live such a soft life, you’d know that!” Panic made Delilah hastily back up and hiss at the angry warriors. Not even she could take on two fully grown cats and expect to win. She was pretty sure her brother’s big mouth was about to get them killed.


	2. ItW 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before y'all read this: I'm mixing the older cats' personalities together from the original books as well as Bluestar's Prophecy. So some of them are going to be more lighthearted than their Into the Wild counterparts. If you don't like your canon cats being slightly OOC, turn back now.
> 
> I also sincerely apologize if the middle part is wonky af. I struggled like hell with it.

Her gaze swung wildly between all three forest cats. She didn’t think Graypaw would attack them, but he certainly wouldn't help them either. Bluestar and Lionheart were still blocking the way to the fence, but maybe if she lunged for the middle they’d separate, thinking she was attacking, and she and Rusty could make a break for it. But they might also just swat her out of the air, they were big enough. And then what would she do? Maybe instead she could attack Graypaw and threaten to kill him if Bluestar and Lionheart didn’t step aside. She wouldn’t actually do it, but they didn’t know that.

Even as thoughts and plans spun through her head, Bluestar didn’t even glance at her. Her frosty blue eyes were glaring down at Rusty, pinning him in place. “Well?” she demanded, awaiting an answer.

Rusty apparently knew how badly he screwed up. He looked at Delilah first and, seeing her panic, went back to his submissive crouch. “I am no threat to your Clan.” he meowed tremulously. Such a pathetic tone coming from him seemed wrong to Delilah. Rusty wasn’t one to cower or whimper, not unless it was in response to something she’d done.

Bluestar wasn’t impressed, not by a long shot. “No threat? _No threat?_ You threaten us by taking prey that is rightfully ours. You hunt for sport, we hunt for survival. Had you caught that mouse, that would mean one less piece of fresh-kill that would have gone to a kit or an elder. Did you ever think of that, _kittypet_?”

Delilah felt Rusty freeze next to her and her fur prickled in discomfort. She didn't know what to do or how to protect him. She felt useless, something she wasn't used to. She waited for him to act, to give a signal, anything. What he did surprised her as much as it did the Clan cats. Rusty straightened up, his eyes clear of all fright and unease. “You're right, I never thought of it that way. I'm sorry. I won't hunt here again.”

An apology? An APOLOGY? They're about to die and he thinks an ‘I'm sorry’ will be enough? What the hell was he thinking? Did he really honestly think that would work?

Apparently it did. Bluestar lost her fierce expression to once again exchange looks with Lionheart. There was an almost resigned look in the tom's yellow eyes that Delilah didn't understand, but it unnerved her almost as much as their anger had. “You… you are an unusual kittypet, Rusty.”

They'd never given their names. How had she known? Then Delilah recalled that the Clan cats had been watching them, so it made sense for them to know what they were called. It still weirded her out though, and she was ready for them to leave. “Is your Clan very big?” Rusty asked in wonder. Delilah mentally sighed. Guess they weren't going home any time soon.

Bluestar flicked an ear dismissively, like she was flicking off a pesky fly. “Big enough. Our territory is enough to support us, but we've nothing to spare.” The reprimand was clear to Delilah, even if Rusty hadn't heard it. ‘Don't hunt here again.’ Part of Delilah agreed. The last thing she wanted was for her brother to be hurt because he didn't listen. The other, more stubborn part wanted to do it anyway just to piss these cats off. Suffice it to say, Delilah apparently had zero survival instincts.

Clearly Rusty didn't hear the same thing she heard, though. “And you all take care of each other?”

Before they could respond, Delilah interrupted. “No more than you and I take care of each other, I imagine. Bluestar has already said they hunt for the young and old, Graypaw's said they fight the other Clans for territory. Lionheart's been standing there like a lump this entire time.” Lionheart and Graypaw both gaped at her impudence while Rusty and Bluestar shared an almost exasperated look. Delilah gave a sarcastic smile to the bigger tom. “Thank you for your contribution, by the way. You make a very handsome statue.”

Something apparently snapped. “Okay, that's it.” Lionheart hissed and took a threatening step forward, claws unsheathed and glinting in the moonlight. “Either you start showing some respect right now or I swear to StarClan-”

Delilah cut him off with a mocking sneer. “You'll what? Kill me like you killed that other cat?” In her admittedly small experience, this ploy never failed. Confuse a cat enough and they'll forget whatever it was they were angry about. This time was no exception. She could almost hear the question running through his head: ‘what is she talking about?’ “That extra fluffy part of your scruff?” She gave a would-be innocent tilt of the head and blinked wide eyes at him. “Are you telling me that ISN'T the pelt of a cat you killed, skinned, and now wear as a trophy and warning to all those who dare oppose your might?”

Delilah counted the beats of silence it took for them to react. Everybody was staring at her in mute shock, even Rusty. She got up to five before he and Graypaw both burst out laughing. Even Bluestar was trying to hide a smile, though she dropped it when Lionheart whirled around on her with his mouth open. She spoke before he could even get a word out. “No, Lionheart. You may not spread that rumor at a Gathering to scare the new apprentices.”

He let out the breath he'd been holding and looked away. Were he not a big, strong warrior, Delilah would have described it as a pout. “You're no fun anymore.” he muttered, just loud enough for the rest of them to hear.

Seeing as Rusty and Graypaw were still struggling for breath, Delilah gave a commiserating nod. “I know the type. Seen it happen. Cats change, grow apart. You can either fight for your friendship or accept that it's over.” Delilah had to take a few steps forward to pat him consolingly on the shoulder, but she did it.

And now that the older cats appeared to be thoroughly distracted by her seemingly harmless antics, she flashed a quick look to Rusty. He had calmed himself enough that he caught it, and blinked to show he understood. Delilah kept up her steady stream of fake condolences, conjuring up a story of having once witnessed a pair of kithood friends have a falling out that had destroyed their relationship forever.

Delilah had no idea if any of the forest cats were buying her distraction or not. The two elder ones were watching her weave her web, regaling them with how Mindy had caught Shiloh with Elias, the tom she’d thought had loved her. Not even she had any clue where this was coming from. They were all real cats, but as far as Delilah knew, none of them had ever met each other. She was careful to keep her eyes on Lionheart as she spoke, keeping Rusty in her peripheral as he tiptoed in the background to get behind their blockade.

Once she deemed him safe, Delilah didn’t even try to be subtle in her sidestepping Lionheart, still babbling, not even sure what she was saying anymore. When she got to Rusty’s side, she looked up at the sky and blinked in fake surprise. “Oh wow, is it that late? Well, thanks for the talk, sorry for intruding, won’t happen again, bye!”

Rusty took off when she finished and Delilah was a flash behind him. They didn't get very far before once again they were cut off. Except this time Bluestar and Lionheart angled themselves so the two kittypets were caught in a triangle. Delilah spat a curse and got ready for a fight. She didn't expect Bluestar to be so lenient this time. 

Far from being angry though, Bluestar actually seemed to be incredibly amused. “Did you actually think your little act would work? I will give you credit for the creativity of it, but your brother is hardly the stealthiest of cats. Warriors are trained to always be alert.”

There it was again. Any mention of training from these cats made Delilah’s fur itch. She sighed heavily and righted herself. There was no escaping it now. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.” she meowed blankly. “Go ahead, then. Say what you’re going to say. I know what you’re gonna offer, I know what his answer will be. Might as well get it over with.”

The two she-cats stared at each other before Bluestar switched her gaze to Rusty. “I'd like to extend an invitation to the both of you to join ThunderClan.” Yup. There it was. Delilah heard her brother take in a sharp, surprised breath of air. Clearly he'd had no idea what Bluestar had been leading up to. Delilah wasn't surprised at his surprise. Rusty had a good heart, and he was good at thinking on his paws, but his situational awareness could use some work.

His wasn't the only one, either. “But kittypets can't become warriors! They don't have warrior blood!” Graypaw blurted out.

Normally Delilah would have let that go. Let them have their prejudices, what did she care? But she was tired, hungry, and annoyed. More than that though, if she and Rusty were going to be spending the rest of their lives with these forest cats as she suspected, she had to nip this holier-than-thou attitude in the bud.

Bluestar looked like she was about to respond. She never got the chance. Delilah whirled around and put the full force of her wrath in her glare. Her tail lashed wildly in an almost unhinged dance and she unsheathed her claws as far as they'd go, making sure he got the idea. “Why Graypaw, it sounds as if you're insinuating something. It sounds, silly of me to even consider it, that you're saying because I was born a kittypet, I'm somehow lesser than you.” She took a slow, menacing step forward, and basked in the genuine fear building in Graypaw’s eyes. “That's absurd though, for two reasons. For one, cats can’t help where they’re born. To judge them on that is cruel and unfair. And two, well, I already proved I can beat you in a fight. Would you like a reminder?”

Graypaw actually took a step back, stuttering and stammering what amounted to a half-assed apology. Delilah would have gone on intimidating him for the fun of it when a tug on her tail made her glance at Rusty. He looked about as annoyed as she felt. “Come on, Delilah, knock it off. Keep acting like that and they’ll think you might actually hurt him.”

Damn it. Sometimes Delilah hated how well he knew her. “That was kind of the point, Rustbucket.” She growled, stepping back again and loosening her stance. In a few seconds she went from being a dangerous threat to calmly washing her ears. “How are we going to make them take us seriously if we just roll over and let them talk about us how they want?” Rusty rolled his eyes at her and Delilah gaped. “Oh you did NOT just roll your eyes at me!”

Not only did he do it again, he also blatantly ignored her and looked back at the watching adults. “Graypaw’s sort of right though. Why us? Why offer us the chance if you think we might not be able to handle it?” 

Delilah was kind of curious too. She didn’t care whether they joined or not, even if she had a gut feeling they would. But if Clan cats really thought of kittypets as weaker, why allow them to join? “You are right to question our motives. The truth is, ThunderClan needs more warriors. Leafbare has left us weaker than usual, and the other Clans encroach on our territory every other moon.”

So they need fighters. Bodies who were willing to bleed for their Clan. Delilah wondered if that was all they were, fodder to wear down their enemies enough to beat easily. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. On the one paw, she was never one to turn down a good fight. On the other, if it was true, then why didn’t they recruit other kittypets and loners?

Her musings were interrupted by Lionheart. “Understand, you two, that Bluestar does not make this offer lightly. It needs to be either both or neither. We will not accept one without the other.” Okay, that was… weird. Bluestar was just harping on about the Clan’s need for warriors. Why take zero when you can only have one? Not that it mattered. If Rusty somehow miraculously decided against joining, she wouldn’t either. “You must either _respect_ us-” he emphasized respect and flashed a particular look at her- “and our way of life or return to your twolegs and never come back.”

Beside her, Delilah felt Rusty shiver. It wasn’t cold enough for it to be from that, so she could only decide it was from excitement. Bluestar apparently saw it too, only she didn’t think it was from cold or excitement. “Are you wondering if it’s worth it? Giving up your comfortable kittypet life? But do you know what you’d be giving up if you stayed?” Rusty’s excitement turned to puzzlement. “Despite the twoleg stench that clings to you, I can tell the both of you are still intact.”

This time Delilah was as confused as Rusty. What did she mean by ‘still intact’? The two kittypets exchanged bewildered looks and Bluestar saw their confusion. “You have not yet been taken to the cutter to become… altered.” She huffed once in amusement. “The both of you would be very different otherwise. Not so keen to hunt and fight with Clan cats, I imagine!”

Oh, she meant the vet! Was that what happened to Henry, that fat old tabby that lived down the road that always whined about the birds? Bluestar wasn’t done with her persuasion and continued. “We wouldn’t be able to offer such available food and warmth. In the season of Leaf-bare, the weather can be cruel. Nights especially. And we can’t always guarantee a full belly. But the rewards would be great. You’d both remain as you are, be trained in the ways of the wild, and you’d have the strength and companionship of your Clanmates behind you even when you hunt alone.”

It sounded… not that bad, actually. Companionship had never been a problem for Delilah. She was just as comfortable being alone as she was with others, even preferred it sometimes. But she knew Rusty wasn’t like her. He thrived on being surrounded by cats, on helping others and being depended on. He was the exact opposite of her in that way. An offer like that was too good for him to refuse. Lionheart spoke to Bluestar this time. “We should return to camp soon, Bluestar. Tigerclaw will be wondering what became of us.”

Bluestar murmured agreement. Delilah was fully convinced she and Rusty would be following after them, but Rusty proceeded to surprise her. “Wait! Can we think about your offer? Talk it over between us?”

It took a few long moments, but eventually the old she-cat nodded. “Lionheart will be here at sunhigh tomorrow. If you’re not here, we will assume your answer is no.” Honestly it was more than Delilah had expected, but she was glad they were given the allowance. Rusty wasn’t the only one who had goodbyes to make.

The three forest cats turned and disappeared into the undergrowth, Graypaw meowing goodbye over his shoulder. Rusty looked up at the stars, and Delilah looked at him. The wind whispered through the trees, setting them rustling. She broke the silence. “We’re joining, aren’t we?”

Rusty didn’t even hesitate to nod. “Oh, totally.”


	3. ItW 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight scenes are hard to write. Please don't hold it against me.

Delilah slept the rest of the night, but woke up her usual time in the morning. Rusty was still curled up and snoozing, and Delilah decided to let him sleep. She’d come back to him later, after saying her own goodbyes. She ignored the bowls of food and water and made her way outside. The sun was already warming the air, and she took a moment to bask in it before turning her back on the forest and starting her journey farther into town.

She passed quite a few houses before stopping in front of an alleyway. She pricked her ears to listen, and heard the sounds of pawsteps further in the darkness. A smirk passed her muzzle, and Delilah sunk into a crouch before stalking her way towards them. The darkness swallowed her up, but she wasn’t worried. If anything, she welcomed it.

The pawsteps disappeared with no warning. Delilah froze, barely daring to breathe, and a cat leaped onto her from its hiding place. Delilah hissed and twisted around, throwing the cat off her. They landed with an ‘oomph’ and Delilah pounced, landing squarely on their shoulders. The pair wrestled and growled before separating, ending their spat as quickly as it started.

A cut on her cheek stung, but Delilah gave no hint it bothered her. Out here, any weakness shown would be taken advantage of, even by the cats she called her friends. “Quick as ever, Asha.” she meowed with a twitch of her whiskers.

The cat in front of her was a few moons her elder, being a full year old to Delilah’s six. She was thin, bordering on malnourished, but there was strength in that slender frame of hers. She was pretty too, with light gray fur that turned silver in the right light, and thick tabby stripes and spots on her legs. Green eyes glittered, and a pink tongue swiped around a white muzzle. “You almost got me that time. Still unsheathed your claws too early though. I heard them clacking on the asphalt.”

Delilah cursed and glared at her paws, as if blaming them for their betrayal. “That was my last chance, too.” she grumbled under her breath.

Asha, who’d gone to casually looking over her own paws, whipped her head up to glare at her. “What do you mean your last chance? Are your twolegs leaving? I know you aren’t letting them take you to the vet. You have too much fight in you to let yourself get fat and lazy like all those other kittypets, and you’re far too devoted to your brother to leave him for too long.”

Delilah huffed. Nobody could say Asha didn’t know her. “You know those Clan cats that live in the woods?” Asha nodded with her eyes narrowing. “They’ve invited Rusty and I to live with them. You know how he is with the forest. He’s joining them at noon, and I’m going with. Part of their stipulation was that if we join the Clan, we stay with the Clan. Meaning this is probably going to be the last time we see each other.”

Asha didn’t answer for a long time. Or it felt like a long time. She stared at Delilah, not letting her thoughts show. Delilah didn’t let it bother her. Asha would speak when she was ready. Finally, the older she-cat meowed, “Are you sure? You’ve heard the stories. They’re greedy, and ruthless, and cruel, and there are dangers in the forest you can’t possibly imagine. Are you prepared to fight their battles for them? To lay down your life for cats who would abandon you as soon as you’re not useful anymore?”

Her words stung, and Delilah flattened her ears. “That sounds more like life here than in there. Tell me Asha, if you hadn’t seen something in me that first day we met, would we be having this conversation? If I was as weak and useless as the average kittypet, would you have given me a second glance?”

She wouldn’t have. Delilah knew that without even thinking about it. Asha knew it too, if the frown on her face was any indication. “Fine. But if you’re going out there, there’s no way I’m letting you go without being certain you can take care of yourself.” She rose from her sitting position, and a prickle of fear crept down Delilah’s spine at the look in her eye. “Defend yourself!” And she leaped forward with claws unsheathed.

Delilah reacted on pure instinct. She rose up on her hindpaws to meet her, a snarl on her muzzle like she was fighting for her life. And in a way, she was. Asha might have been older and had more experience, but Delilah had weight on her side. She caught Asha in her paws and allowed herself to fall to the floor, but got her hindpaws in front of her and under her opponent. She pummeled her paws into Asha’s stomach, tearing away tufts of fur.

Asha snarled and clamped her teeth on Delilah’s ear, sending fiery pain through her body. Delilah screeched and kicked upwards with her hindpaws, sending Asha flying as far as Delilah could send her. She stood as fast as she could, breathing heavily. Blood dribbled down her newly ripped ear, and Delilah knew it would scar. She yowled in fury and sprinted towards Asha, who met her with a hiss.

They boxed back and forth, claws ripping and tearing into fur and flesh. Asha caught Delilah on the face, slicing across the bridge of her nose, and Delilah responded with an upward strike to her nose with as much power as she could put in it in hopes of dazing her. It worked. Asha backed up, blinking and shaking her head to clear the stars, and Delilah saw her chance to end it.

Once more she tackled Asha, and they rolled once, twice, before Delilah ended up pinning Asha down with an unsheathed paw at her neck. “Yield.” She demanded, pressing her claws against the unprotected skin just enough to threaten.

Asha glared up at her before sighing and going limp. “I yield.” Delilah released her and backed away, keeping her claws out in case it was a trick. The two she-cats panted in silence, letting the adrenaline run it’s course. Asha was the first one to speak up. “Good fight. I’ve taught you well.” Despite the fact that they’d pretty much just been trying to kill each other, Delilah glowed with pride. “Let’s get something on those wounds of yours before you leave. Your new friends might not take kindly to you using their supplies already.”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Delilah, and she followed Asha wordlessly to a yard that had a fountain in it. Asha dipped her paw into the water and used it to clear away the worst of the blood. “Don’t wash it all away.” Delilah suddenly said. “The Clans think about as much of kittypets as you do. I need some way to get them to take me seriously, and what better way is there than to show them I can fight just as well as they can?”

Asha hummed in understanding and continued attempting to clean Delilah off. They sat in quiet once more, and once more Asha was the one to break it. She spoke quietly, as if not really wanting to say it. “For what it’s worth… I will miss you.” Delilah didn’t answer, but purred instead and nuzzled her gently. “Okay, done.”

Delilah looked into her reflection. Unlike Rusty, she wasn’t completely orange. The top half of her face was ginger, and three small ginger spots were on her muzzle, just above her mouth. The rest of her face was white, and that white expanded down to her throat and chest. Three of her paws were white as well. She also didn’t wear a collar. Her housefolk had tried, but Delilah kept getting rid of them, so eventually they’d given up on it.

The fight had left her with wounds that would scar, but she wasn’t worried. Looks weren’t important, so long as she could fight. Her ear was torn at the top, missing a good chunk, and her shoulders and chest were cut as well. None of them were bleeding anymore, but there was just enough pink around them to suggest they’d only just stopped. It was exactly what she’d wanted. “Perfect.” she purred.

She glanced up at the sky to check the position of the sun. She still had a bit of time. “Come on, let’s go visit the others. I want to say goodbye to them too.” Asha nodded and led the way. The rest of the time Delilah had left was spent visiting friends and causing trouble for any passing twoleg. It was always fun to weave between their legs when they weren’t expecting it to make them stumble.

At one point one of her wounds opened up again. It wasn’t a bad one, but it was enough to make the smell of blood noticeable. Delilah would have licked it clean again but Asha was quick to point out the time. Delilah snapped her head up to look at the sun again. She was almost late! “Oh crap!” She leaped to her paws and touched noses with Asha. “I’ve gotta go, I’m late. Thank you for everything Asha, you’ve been the best friend and teacher I could have asked for. I’ll never forget you. I have to go though. Bye!”

She hared away, hearing Asha’s farewell from behind her. Her paws thrummed on the asphalt, making the pads of them smart, but she couldn’t slow down. She got to the place that was her yard and swore she heard Smudge calling after her, but even if she hadn’t been late she probably would have ignored him.

Finally Delilah paused, panting, just beyond where she and Rusty had had their encounter. Up ahead, she could hear the deep rumble of Lionheart’s voice. “Where’s your sister? I told you, it would be either both or neither.”

Rusty was quick to attempt to reassure him, though his own uncertainty bled through his voice. “She’ll be here, I promise! I don’t know where she’s gone, she wasn’t there when I woke up earlier-”

But an unfamiliar voice cut him off, and the alarm in it caused the tension in the air to double. “Wait. I smell blood.”

Her breath steadied, Delilah called out, “Yeah, that’d be me.” She pushed her way through the foliage to enter the clearing. There was a white tom there, as big as Lionheart, and Delilah narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought only Lionheart was escorting us. Unless the big bad warrior thinks he couldn't handle two itty bitty kittypets?”

Both warriors started bristling. Lionheart jerked his head in Delilah's direction and growled, “See what I meant? Zero discipline, zero respect.” The white tom muttered something Delilah couldn't hear, but it made Lionheart snort before addressing her directly. “This is Whitestorm, a senior warrior alongside myself. He came only to meet you two and judge you himself.” Delilah gave a sarcastic smile that only a fool would think genuine, and the gesture caused the cut on her nose to stretch. She winced at the sting and licked a paw to wipe off the bead of blood. 

Rusty frowned at her, eyes flicking around to take stock of each cut. “What happened to you? Asha again?” Delilah nodded but didn't speak. She knew how he felt about her friend. Rusty scowled at her. “Why do you hang out with her when every time leads to you getting hurt?”

She scowled back and added a glare for good measure. “Because she makes me a better fighter. The better I am at fighting, the better I can protect you.”

He flattened his ears and narrowed his eyes until all Delilah saw was slits of green. “I don't always need you to protect me, you know. Just because you're the better fighter doesn't mean I'm afraid to use my claws.”

She growled and was about to retort that he shouldn't have to use his claws when Lionheart broke in with a twitch of his tail. “As fascinating as this discussion is, we're wasting daylight. Come.”

Aaaaand more running. Delilah sprinted after them with Rusty at her side. She kept her eyes on Whitestorm, knowing he would be the easiest to spot if she wound up losing them. And it was a possibility. She and Rusty were smaller, with shorter legs, yet neither warrior seemed to care. They leaped over logs with a single bound while the two siblings had to climb over with an undignified scramble.

At one point there was a gully in the ground that was too wide to jump over. A stream of water was swirling and churning. The warriors waded through it like it was nothing. Disgust curled Delilah's lip and she shuddered. It was a feeling Rusty obviously shared, but he trooped forth with a stubborn tilt to his head.

Welp. Guess she had no choice. Delilah followed him through the water, and she had to hold her head up higher to avoid getting splashed by the current. She hated being so small. It wasn't even like she was abnormally small. Plenty of kits her age were this size. She'd grow eventually. But her growth spurt could not come soon enough.

Eventually they stopped. Rusty and Delilah paused behind them, and for all her boasting about her physical fitness, Delilah was panting just as hard as Rusty was. Lionheart and Whitestorm were watching them, each sitting on a stone that sat on top of an out of place ravine. “We are very close to our camp now.” Lionheart meowed.

Delilah could see Rusty glancing around, attempting to see anything that suggested cats nearby. She had no idea what he was expecting though. She could see Whitestorm getting impatient, so she wordlessly flicked her tail under Rusty's nose, hinting to him what to do. He got it and smelled the air. “I smell cats.”

Lionheart and Whitestorm exchanged amused looks. But instead of leading the way into camp, they looked at her. “And you, young Delilah? What do you smell?”

Delilah closed her eyes to better concentrate on her nose. She took a deep breath and took a moment to attempt to sort them. There were many cats, exactly like Rusty said, but Delilah took it a step further. “Bluestar and Graypaw haven't been by today… But other cats have. Maybe… three? I think?”

At best, it was an educated guess. The smells of the cats right in front of her were muddling her senses, but she THOUGHT there were three fresher ones underneath it. She couldn't tell which direction it was going though.

Either way, it was enough for the two of them to exchange surprises looks. “Indeed. That would be our sunhigh patrol.” Lionheart meowed. “There will come a time when the both of you will be able to name these cats by scent alone. _If_ you are accepted into the Clan.”

… If? If?! Were they telling her that after all of this, there was STILL a chance they wouldn't be taken in?! Because if that was true then Delilah would set the whole place on fire. Somehow. She'd find a way!

Lionheart turned and made his way down the ravine. Rusty followed him and Whitestorm gestured for Delilah go after. She glowered at him but acquiesced, descending the ravine carefully.

The gorse of the barrier prickled along her sides, but what was on the other side was well worth it. An earthen floor that had once obviously been a stream was now packed tightly to the ground from seasons upon seasons of paws walking on it. Bushes of ferns and gorse were intersected with tussocks of long grass and tree stumps. A fallen tree lay on one side of the ravine, in front of which a small group of old cats were gathered.

The true marvel was a seemingly obsequious pile of rocks in the middle of the camp. There was a single large one in the center of it that a bunch of other, smaller rocks were leaning on, but the bigger one was definitely the centerpiece of it. There shouldn't have been any reason it grabbed Delilah's attention like it had, but it did.

Cats had noticed the newcomers in their home. Delilah twitched her ears to catch some of the murmurs that were making their way around the camp. Some of them questioned who they were, and a few of them brought up the scratches and blood on her, wondering if they’d captured her at the border. A small smirk crossed her muzzle, one which she worked to hide. Clearly Bluestar hadn’t shared her plans to allow the kittypets to join.

Lionheart pointed out the nursery to them, stating how the care of the kits was a duty shared by all the queens of the Clan. Would that be expected of her as well? Delilah flattened her ears and eyed him suspiciously. “Now when you say ALL of the queens…”

Whitestorm chuffed in laughter and spoke in a reassuring voice. “Perhaps not the best phrasing. When he says all queens, Lionheart only means the ones that WANT to have or care for them. Not every she-cat ends up having kits, and that is perfectly fine.” Delilah couldn’t hide her relief as well as she could a smirk. Whitestorm blinked and tilted his head at her in what she could only guess was curiosity. “Do you not want children of your own someday?” he asked.

Feeling self conscious, Delilah could only shrug. “It’s not so much the kits that bother me so much as the…” She wrinkled her nose, waving her paw in the air as if urging the correct word to appear in her mind. “I guess you can say the monotony of it. I’m not the kind of cat you’d want to stick in one place or I’d go stir-crazy. If I can’t be out _there_ , then what’s the point of me being _here_?”

The two warriors hummed and exchanged glances that once again Delilah couldn’t read. It was getting really annoying. But they didn’t continue the conversation, and for that Delilah was grateful. “Bluestar is coming.” Lionheart informed them, and Delilah got a kick out of Rusty hastily smelling the air and seeming pleased with himself with the gray she-cat appeared from behind the pile of rocks. Was there a den back there?

Bluestar padded towards the group with a relieved look on her face. Rather than address the two kittypets, she spoke instead to her warriors. “They came.” she purred. Had she doubted them? She faltered momentarily at the blood scent on Delilah. “You’re hurt.”

Delilah gave a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes. “It’s like you guys have never seen blood before.” she grumbled in annoyance. “Yes, I’m hurt. I got into a fight with a friend that said she wouldn’t let me go unless I could defend myself. And as you can see,” she sat back on her hind quarters to spread her forelegs and bring even more attention on her minor wounds, “I defended myself.” She righted herself and rolled her shoulders, working the muscles loose. “I already washed them off, if you’re concerned about that.”

Bluestar hummed and stared before disregarding her and looking instead at Whitestorm. “Well? What do you think?”

The white warrior looked at the two kittypets and nodded slowly, as if it pained him to admit it. “They kept up well, despite their puny size… And despite Delilah’s attitude problems, she _does_ seem strong.” She straightened up at that, only to hiss when he went on. “We did go through that gully with the water though. You know the one. She should see Spottedleaf later to get something on them to avoid infection.”

The whole point of her washing off the cuts was so they WOULDN’T waste their time on her! She started to protest but Bluestar steamrolled right over her, like she hadn’t even spoken. “It’s agreed then?” They both nodded, Whitestorm more decisively than he had earlier. Bluestar seemed pleased. “Then I shall announce their arrival to the Clan.” She turned and took three bounds to the top of the largest boulder. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

Whitestorm and Lionheart nudged the two up to the smaller bundle of rocks to the side. Rusty climbed his way to the one slightly below the one Delilah chose while the warriors sat on the ground in front of them. Their towering height made it so their heads were all level. Bluestar’s call was loud and clear, bringing more cats than Delilah had ever seen to crowd around the bottom. There were tabbies and tortoiseshells, black cats and white cats, and long pelts as well as short pelts.

She even spotted Graypaw mixed with the crowd, sitting next to a pretty tortoiseshell she-cat. She looked young too, only a bit older than Graypaw. Was she an apprentice as well? And behind them was a gray tabby tom, larger in size than both of them. His stripes were black as shadows, and his eyes held an unfriendly glint to them. Perhaps it was premature of her, but Delilah decided right away she didn’t like him.

Her eyes flicked about the crowd, picking out certain cats here and there. Some cats met her gaze curiously, while others glared. Some even ignored her, turning their heads to speak to the cat next to them. A ginger she-cat sat near the pile of brambles Lionheart had pointed out as the nursery, and she met Delilah’s eyes with a wary, yet curious light to them. Next to her was a beautiful pure white she-cat with blue eyes, who was whispering to the queen next to her and remained unaware that Delilah was looking at her.

They all fell silent when Bluestar spoke though, and Delilah was amazed at the power she had over these cats. Their respect of her was as obvious as the full moon on a clear night. “ThunderClan needs more warriors. Never before has there been so few apprentices in training. It has been decided that ThunderClan will take in two outsiders to train as warriors…”

ThunderClan didn’t seem to like that. There were whispers about now, and Delilah pricked her ears to try and hear them. But they were too low and indistinct for her to pick out individual words, and she stopped trying with a scowl that bordered on a pout. Bluestar went on, ignoring the whispers. “I have found two cats that are willing to become apprentices.”

“ _Lucky_ to become apprentices!” a voice yowled from the crowd. It was easy to hear, as the shock had silenced any cats that might have spoken up.

Immediately Delilah was on her paws, bristling. “You’d be _lucky_ to have us!” she shot back. She could see Rusty craning his head to spot the outcrier, but Delilah didn’t bother. He’d reveal himself eventually. Lionheart hissed at her to sit down. She did so reluctantly, but glowered out at the crowd to show she was not. Happy.

Bluestar ignored the both of them and continued on. “Lionheart and Whitestorm have met them both and have agreed with me that we should train them both alongside our apprentices.”

Now everybody’s attention turned to them. Delilah could feel their gazes on her pelt, examining her cuts and scars, but she raised her chin high. She wouldn’t cower before these Clan cats like the kittypet they all thought she was. But it was clear Rusty wasn’t feeling her confidence. She heard him swallow nervously, and shifted just slightly so her paw brushed his fur. She was exactly where she should be, watching his back. His shivering faded, but only just.

Now the caterwauling started, cats throwing questions left and right. “Where do they come from?” “Where did she get those wounds?” “What a strange scent they carry! It’s not the scent of any Clan I know!” Did they expect that Bluestar would recruit cats from the other Clans? If so these Clan cats were dumber than Delilah thought.

That same voice from earlier rose up above the wailing. “Look at his collar! He’s a _kittypet!_ This Clan needs wildborn warriors to defend it, not another soft mouth to feed.” There was murmuring in agreement and Delilah growled at them all. “As for the she-cat? Look at those scars! It’s clear she’s a rogue. What rogue could possibly learn our ways? All they know is greed and they’re only loyal to themselves.”

Once again Delilah leaped to her paws and yowled for all to hear, “You know, it’s funny you say that! This morning a friend told me the exact same thing about Clan cats. What makes you so different from me, huh? From us?!” She heard Lionheart whisper to Rusty, telling him the cat was named Longtail, but Delilah ignored them, choosing to continue antagonizing Longtail into outing himself. “Newsflash, fleabag, this is my brother. I’m a kittypet too. But my claws are just as sharp as yours and I’m willing to prove it! Come and face me, you coward! If you think you’re so high and mighty, get out here and prove it!”

She dropped into a crouch and drew her lips back, waiting for some dramatic parting of the crowd to reveal her opponent. But nobody moved, and all eyes remained on her. Nobody was even paying attention to Rusty, who Delilah could sense looking swiftly through the crowd. “Oh well that changes everything! _Two_ kittypets for the price of _one_!” Were the circumstances any different, Delilah would have appreciated the heavy sarcasm. “Do you see this? Says she’s a kittypet, acts like a rogue. How could we ever trust her?”

There were yowls of agreement. Delilah hissed and lashed her tail, but didn’t move. She couldn’t pick out who was speaking and didn’t want to just lunge into the crowd. That was just asking for somebody to get hurt. And as much as she wanted to hurt Longtail, nobody else deserved it for his stupidity.

He continued to prove it too, but he made the mistake of switching targets. “At least _she_ doesn’t have a collar though.” He jeered at Rusty. “Your collar is the mark of the twolegs, and it’s noisy jingling will make you a poor hunter at best. At worst, it’ll bring the twolegs into our lands, searching for the poor lost kittypet who fills the forest with it’s pathetic tinkling! It’ll alert our enemies that you’re an outsider, even if that stench of yours doesn’t.”

He dug his own grave by finishing off his speech with, “Once a kittypet, always a kittypet.”

Delilah howled a challenge, but was shocked when she was beaten to the punch. Rusty hissed below her and charged into the crowd, immediately heading for one cat in specific. Obviously he’d found his target. Delilah grinned and crouched, ready to join in, when Whitestorm raised a paw. “Wait.” she gaped at him, asking wordlessly to please explain why in the hell she would do that. “You’ve made your statement. It's your brother's turn. Let him prove his worth.”

He… had a point. She’d already shown her strength. Time to let Rusty show his. So though it turned her stomach, Delilah sat back down and watched. Her paws itched to run to Rusty’s side, where she’d always belonged, but she silently commanded them to stay. Rusty was actually doing well. There were a few times he left himself open and a few times he didn’t take advantage, but in all Delilah approved.

Whitestorm had to physically hold her back when Longtail got Rusty’s collar between his teeth and _pulled_. The choking sounds coming from Rusty’s throat echoed in Delilah’s ears and she knew she’d have nightmares to come. Why wasn’t anybody stopping this? Would she really have to watch her brother die right in front of her? The answer was no. With a startling ‘snap’, Rusty’s collar broke. The two fighting cats were flung apart and were panting a few feet apart from each other. Longtail had the collar in his mouth, the clasp broken and mangled.

Bluestar stopped everything with a thunderous yowl. The crowd silenced and Rusty and Longtail stared at each other, the light of battle still in their eyes. Bluestar leaped from the Highrock and gave a brief command to Whitestorm to let Delilah go. As soon as she felt him release her, Delilah was speeding off. She almost ran right into Rusty with how fast she was going. 

Delilah ignored Bluestar when she started speaking to the Clan. There was a nasty looking cut on Rusty’s forehead, just above his eye. “You’re hurt.” she meowed despairingly. She gently used her claws to bend his head toward her, licking it clean. Rusty mumbled for her to let him go, and she did without comment, too relieved to care about the public display of affection. “It’s not too deep. Surface wound, at most.” She looked over at Longtail to check his damage and felt savage satisfaction at the bloody rip in his ear. “You still need work, your balance was all over the place, but we can get to it later. You got him good!”

Rusty practically glowed at the praise and Delilah purred in amusement. She didn’t give out compliments lightly, not even to him, so his pride was well earned. Delilah noted the silence and looked over at the Clan cats, many of which were smiling at the two of them. Immediately she scowled at them all and snapped, “What’re you lookin’ at?!”

Bluestar was the one who answered her, a gleam in her eyes. “I believe, young one, they are looking at two of ThunderClan’s brand new apprentices. If you so choose it.” Delilah looked at Rusty and gestured for him to answer for both of them. He nodded solemnly, and Delilah internally rolled her eyes at his dramatics. Rusty moved slightly away from her to sit in a sunray, rolling his shoulders to loosen them. Bluestar took the collar from Longtail and padded over to lay it at Rusty’s paws. She touched his ear with her nose and whispered, just loud enough for Delilah to hear, “You look like a brand of fire in this light.”

Her eyes flashed with hidden meaning, and Bluestar turned to face her Clanmates. “From this day forward, until he earns his warrior name, this apprentice shall be known as Firepaw, in honor of his flame-colored coat.”

Oh. Right. Name changes. That would make sense, wouldn’t it? Delilah watched with the rest of ThunderClan as he kicked dust and earth over it, like he was burying dirt. She smiled at him as the Clan cheered his new name, and stepped forward when Bluestar turned to her. “As for you…” Bluestar looked over her, and Delilah figured she was looking for something to name her. She raised her head in challenge and Bluestar looked her in the eyes before coming to a decision. “From this day forward, until she earns her warrior name, this apprentice shall be known as Sparkpaw, for the spark of defiance in her eyes.”

This time the chants for her name were less sure, but the newly named Sparkpaw smirked. She liked it. Bluestar leaned closer to her and whispered, just like she had to Firepaw, “Keep that defiance. Use it, shape it, and it will serve you greatly. You have potential, Sparkpaw. Don’t let your pride make that go to waste.”


	4. ItW, 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of them joining the Clan.

The cats of ThunderClan separated into their own little groups, discussing either Firepaw’s fight or her own actions. Longtail limped off to a corner of camp, and Sparkpaw smirked at the pathetic image he gave. He was only lucky Whitestorm hadn’t let her join in. If she had, he’d have more wounds than just his ear to worry about!

“Great fight, Firepaw!” Sparkpaw turned to see Graypaw had popped out of nowhere and was giving her brother the stupidest grin she’d ever seen on anybody’s face. She immediately started snickering, making him give a mix of a pout and a glare at her. He didn’t verbally respond, however. “Longtail’s a warrior, but he only finished his training a few moons ago. Still, you spoiled his good looks, that’s for sure!”

Sparkpaw snorted, her good mood from laughing still obvious. “He had good looks? I hadn’t noticed them.” she purred, smirk widening when both toms started giggling at her like kits. Feeling buoyed by their reaction, she bounced on her toes and made a show of looking around. “Did he hide them? Are they behind that ugly looking tom with the face?”

The tom she was referring to was the one that had been sitting behind Graypaw during the meeting. He glowered darkly at her before raking his dark yellow eyes over Firepaw's frame. He wasn't all that impressed with what he saw. “Lucky your collar snapped when it did. Longtail might be young, but I can't imagine losing to a _kittypet_.”

The disdain in his expression ruined Sparkpaw's good mood. With faux pleasantness, she meowed, “Hi, I'm Sparkpaw. And you are?” Posture shifting to express his sudden wariness, he introduced himself as Darkstripe. Still with that off putting pleasantness, “Hello Darkstripe. I don’t like you and I hope you sit on a thorn.”

Darkstripe hissed at her while Firepaw and Graypaw choked on their laughter, not even trying to hide it. Instead of responding, the warrior stalked away. Through his laughter, Graypaw stammered, “You, you’re kind of horrible. Did you know that?” Sparkpaw didn't take him seriously. By the somewhat awed look in his eyes, he hadn’t meant it as an insult either.

Whether she took offense or not, though, her mood had been ruined. She grunted and cast her gaze about camp, not looking for anybody or anything in particular. “You're just lucky Firepaw likes you. Otherwise you'd be getting it just as bad.” Graypaw's laughter trailed off nervously. Firepaw kicked her lightly in reprimand, and Sparkpaw sighed heavily while rolling her eyes. Knowing she'd well regret it, she drawled without looking at them, “So, care to show us around Graypaw?”

Somehow, without even seeing him, she just knew he was puffing up. “Oh yeah, sure! Leave it to me!” He flashed by her and in the split second she had, Sparkpaw leveled a look at Firepaw. _He's your friend, you deal with him._ Firepaw made a face back at her. _Be nice._ She scowled back at him, but that was all the time they had before Graypaw whirled on them with a blinding smile. “Okay, so-”

Before he could continue, one of the old cats from near the log yowled. He didn't seem to be in distress, but the way Graypaw tensed up had Sparkpaw suddenly alert too. “Smallear smells trouble!” He hissed, bristling.

Sparkpaw had a moment where her first thought was, _’Smallear? They have a cat named **Smallear?**_ ’, before the meaning of Graypaw's words hit her. She grinned and gripped the ground with her claws, fixing her eyes on the barrier. Was she about to have her first fight as a Clan cat? Her tail lashed in excitement and her ears perked up.

Her whole entire being drooped though when a scrawny black cat burst through the entrance. He was pitch black except for a small white marking on his tail, and his amber eyes were wide open with his pupils the size of an ant. Something had spooked him horribly. Sparkpaw noticed a long cut on his shoulder, and the rest of him was ruffled and agitated. “That’s Ravenpaw!” Graypaw hissed, introducing the black cat. He went on speaking to Firepaw but Sparkpaw ignored him. She watched with narrowed eyes as Ravenpaw panted and staggered his way across the clearing. The blood dribbling down his leg left red paw prints as he went, sending a chill down Sparkpaw’s spine.

Bluestar met the young black cat in the middle of the clearing. The only thing betraying her unease at the situation was a glint of worry in her eyes and the subtlest twitching of her tail. “Ravenpaw?” Ravenpaw tried to answer her, stuttering and starting words. Either the blood loss was getting to him or he wasn’t getting enough air into his lungs. Bluestar leaped back onto the Highrock and gestured with her tail for Ravenpaw to join her. “What has happened? Speak, Ravenpaw!”

It took a bit of scrambling but soon the little black tom was standing beside her. Ravenpaw took one single, deep breath, and shouted for the entire clearing to hear, “Redtail is dead!” Shocked gasps and yowls met his words. The name meant nothing to Sparkpaw, but still she frowned. Redtail must have been an important cat for everybody to react like that. “We m-met five RiverClan warriors beside the stream, not far from Sunningrocks. Oakheart was with them.”

Graypaw gasped so loudly Sparkpaw had no choice but to listen this time. “Oakheart! He’s RiverClan’s deputy, thought to be one of the greatest warriors in the forest. Ravenpaw is so lucky! I wish I’d been there. I would have-” 

He was silenced by a furious hiss from one of the elders, and Sparkpaw was glad of it. Whatever Graypaw thought of it, clearly Ravenpaw didn’t consider himself lucky. He went on, describing the encounter between the ThunderClan and RiverClan cats. Ravenpaw hadn’t had any time to recover, swaying and wheezing as he spoke. Sparkpaw expected him to faint any second and made her way to the front of the crowd. She wasn’t surprised when suddenly his eyes rolled back and he pitched forward, off of the Highrock.

Without thinking she lunged forward to try and catch him. It wasn’t a far fall, it wouldn’t have hurt him any more than he already was. Her instincts just screamed at her to do it. Luckily Ravenpaw wasn’t much bigger than she was. She lowered him to the ground gently, raising her head when the ginger queen she’d noticed earlier bounded her way toward them. The queen crouched at Ravenpaw’s side with another wary glance to Sparkpaw but said nothing to her, instead licking Ravenpaw’s cheek to rouse him. “Spottedleaf!” she cried.

The name rang a bell in Sparkpaw’s mind. Spottedleaf was the name of the cat Whitestorm had wanted her to see, to get something on her wounds. The tortoiseshell Sparkpaw had seen beside Graypaw earlier emerged from the fern-shaded corner of camp. She bounded over to them, and Sparkpaw hastily beat a retreat to give them room. Or that’s what she would have said, had anybody asked. She didn’t want Spottedleaf getting a good look at her cuts and deciding she actually did need help.

She returned to Firepaw’s side just as a mournful cry came from just beyond the camp boundary. A large dark brown tabby was forcing his way through the gorse tunnel. He carried the body of another cat like one would prey, craning his head to preserve the dead warrior’s dignity as much as possible. He was only mostly successful, as a bright red tail was dragging through the dust.

The tabby laid his burden on the ground gently. Despite Ravenpaw’s announcement, there was a massive difference between hearing a cat died and seeing the dead body. Shock rippled through the Clan, though this time no cat made a sound. From her spot on top of the Highrock, Bluestar lashed her tail and demanded, “How did this happen, Tigerclaw?”

Tigerclaw didn’t let his leader’s apparent anger ruffle his fur. “He was killed in battle, struck down by Oakheart. I managed to take Oakheart's life in revenge before the river rats fled. Redtail’s death wasn’t in vain. We won't be seeing them on our territory any time soon.”

Bluestar didn't reply immediately. She leaped down from the Highrock and made her way towards Tigerclaw. He backed away from Redtail, dipping his head to her. Bluestar didn't acknowledge him, touching her nose to Redtail's shoulder and closing her eyes. She said nothing for a long moment before raising her head to address the Clan. “Redtail was a good warrior, and a good friend. His decisions were always for the good of the Clan, never swayed by selfish desires. He would have made a good leader, and shall be missed.”

With that, she closed her eyes again and crouched all the way. Cats moves forward to crouch beside her, licking Redtail's fur and murmuring unintelligible things to him.

Sparkpaw tilted her head and blinked in confusion. What were they doing? She'd seen a dead cat accidentally once, last winter. Asha had taken her to meet a friend of hers, but he'd died in the middle of the night. Asha had been sad, true, but nothing like this. There was no gentle last words shared or stories passed around. They hadn't even buried him. Asha had led her away and never mentioned him again.

Seeing this though, for the first time, Sparkpaw felt… actually _good_ about joining the Clan. Would it be like this when she died? Mournful and solemn? She was aware of her own mortality, knew it was going to happen eventually, but found she couldn’t predict whether she’d be missed or not.

Before her thoughts could spiral, she was abruptly interrupted… by teeth closing over her scruff. Sparkpaw yelped indignantly as she was picked up like a kit. “What the-” Lionheart’s scent wreathed around her, and she deduced that he was the one who was now walking. “What are you-” She realized he was carrying her towards where Spottedleaf was caring for Ravenpaw. Panic and humiliation made her squirm. “Let me go!” She even resorted to using her tail to swat at his paws, trying to make him stumble. If he stumbled his hold would loosen and she could make a break for it. ”Let me go _right now, Lionheart!_ ”

He wasn’t having it, though. Lionheart grunted and lifted her higher. Sparkpaw’s ears burned in embarrassment when Spottedleaf looked up from Ravenpaw. “And what do we have here?” she meowed, eyeing Sparkpaw curiously. Sparkpaw sent her darkest glower to the medicine cat, hoping to sent the message that if she so much as touched her, they’d be having problems. Rather than strike fear into her, Spottedleaf’s whiskers twitched in amusement. “Ah. Stubborn apprentice in need of herbs but too proud to ask for help?”

Lionheart finally put her down. Like he KNEW she was going to run, he firmly placed his paw on her tail to discourage her fleeing. “Worse. A stubborn apprentice in need of herbs but doesn’t think she needs them.”

Sparkpaw bristled. If there was one thing in the entire world she hated more than being underestimated, it was being talked about like she wasn’t there. “Um, hello? Right here? And I DON’T need them! I cleaned them off already! Save them for cats like that!” She gestured to the black tom on the ground who thought he was being subtle with his half-open eye. As soon as he saw her looking at him though, Ravenpaw squeaked and clamped his eye shut. Like that would really convince her that he wasn’t listening in.

Spottedleaf narrowed her eyes disapprovingly. “Perhaps that would have been enough before, but you would have needed to pass that filthy gully on the way here. Who knows what got into those cuts? Cats have gotten infections from less.” She met Sparkpaw’s scowl with a determined frown. “Move from that spot and I swear I’ll hunt you down and sit on you myself until I get you treated.”

She hated to admit it, even to herself, but Sparkpaw was admittedly… a little impressed. Only a little, though! Grumbling incoherently, she looked away. Satisfied that she would stay still, Lionheart lifted his paw from her tail with a nod to Spottedleaf and left them. Spottedleaf returned to her work, pressing a wad of something white to Ravenpaw’s shoulder. Oddly, that frown was still on her face. It felt… off, though. In a pinched sort of way. And the way she was concentrating on her work didn’t speak well for Ravenpaw.

Pawsteps abruptly came towards them, and Sparkpaw looked over her shoulder to see the broad form of Tigerclaw making his way over. He barely spared her a glance before speaking to Spottedleaf. “So, Spottedleaf, how is my apprentice doing? I’ve spent a lot of time training him up and it would be a shame to let it all go to waste.”

Before the tortoiseshell could do more than open her mouth, Sparkpaw snorted derisively. “Not enough time, apparently.” Tigerclaw stiffened and slowly turned to face her, eyes narrowed. She didn’t dare flinch from his burning gaze. “From the length and depth of that, I wonder if he just kind of stood there and LET whoever it was claw him to bits.”

Tigerclaw hummed, flicking her gaze over her entire body like he was categorizing her features or picking out her weaknesses. Sparkpaw returned the favor. Seeing him from afar didn’t really do him justice. He was massive and well-muscled, and his claws were so long they peeked out from his paws even without him unsheathing him. One of his ears was torn down the middle, and there was a scar on the bridge of his nose that made Sparkpaw’s sting just looking at it.

Apparently done with his assessment, Tigerclaw snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Ravenpaw’s one of the more weak-willed cats of the Clan.” Sparkpaw glanced at the black mound of fur, aware he was fully conscious and had definitely heard that. How did he feel about the cat teaching him to be a warrior insulting him like that? Tigerclaw dismissed her momentarily and demanded of Spottedleaf, “Will he live?”

“Of course he will.” was her confident response. There was no hint of her unusual frown from before. “He just needs rest to help the wound heal, which means no training until I say so.” Tigerclaw growled at her, and Sparkpaw unsheathed her claws. She didn’t expect him to attack, not really, but it was her immediate reaction. More importantly to her, had she really just been about to take on a cat three times her size for someone she barely knew? That wasn’t like her, and it unnerved her a little.

Spottedleaf finally looked up from Ravenpaw and met Tigerclaw’s eyes. They stared at each other for a few tense heartbeats before Tigerclaw sighed and dipped his head. Finally he turned his full attention to Sparkpaw, and his gaze flicked over her shoulder. She followed his line of vision and found Firepaw and Graypaw sitting only a little bit behind her. “And who are these two?” he asked Graypaw. She assumed he was asking Graypaw, at least. Obviously he wouldn't be asking her.

Sparkpaw felt her tail twitch, but took a breath to keep the irritation at bay. Well, mostly at bay. “Sparkpaw and Firepaw. I’ll let you decide who is who.” she meowed sarcastically. 

Tigerclaw looked about two seconds from smacking her when Firepaw bluntly stated, “I’m Firepaw. She’s Sparkpaw. Yes, she’s a nuisance. Yes, she’s always like this. And you’ll MAYBE get used to it, depending on how adaptable you are. My sister is a mystery even to myself.” For a couple of seconds, everybody stared at him. Even Ravenpaw was barely peeking through an eyelid. The sudden attention seemed to fluster Firepaw. He ducked his head and shuffled his paws. “Those are the usual questions I get about her, at least.” He mumbled, ears twitching uncomfortably.

Sparkpaw frowned at him. “You talk about me? Behind my back?” She wasn't quite sure how to take that. Today was bringing a lot of uncertainties, and such a fact was making her feel like she had grit beneath her fur. Itchy and agitated, and she couldn't scratch it away. “We're talking about that later.” She meowed bluntly. Firepaw sighed but nodded acceptance. Good.

She turned back to Tigerclaw to see him leaning forward a little with his nostrils flared. Sparkpaw leaned back with a growl, warning him away. Whether he heeded her request for space or he had finished taking in her scent, Tigerclaw pulled back with a snort. “You smell like a kittypet, but I've never known a kittypet to have scars or markings like those.”

Sparkpaw huffed at him. “And you've met every kittypet in the world, have you?” She sneered, glaring at him. He met her glare with his own, his tabby pelt bristling in his ire. “Firepaw and I WERE kittypets. Bluestar invited us to join the Clan. Get used to us, Stripe-butt. We're gonna be around for a while.”

Tigerclaw snarled at her, louder than all the gasps of the cats behind her. Even Spottedleaf's head snapped up to gape at her. Perhaps a saner cat would have been more wary of inciting another fight so soon, particularly with such a large and obviously battle-scarred opponent. But Sparkpaw had never claimed to be the most stable of cats.

She grinned at him and sank onto her haunches, wriggling around tauntingly. It couldn't have been a louder challenge than if she'd leaped onto the Highrock and yowled it to the heavens. He probably would have done it too if Spottedleaf hadn't stepped between them. “That's enough!” She addressed Tigerclaw first and meowed, “Tigerclaw, I'm aware she needs to learn some respect. However, at the moment, she is technically my patient. I'd appreciate it if you could control your temper.”

Sensing the situation was being de-escalated, Sparkpaw decided to get one more jab in. “Yeah, Tigerclaw! Control your temper!” She jeered with a snicker. 

Tigerclaw's glare doubled, but Spottedleaf whirled on her before he could even open his mouth. “And you! If Tigerclaw needs to control his temper, you need to control your mouth. Think before you speak! At the very least consider the consequences! One more word out of you and I will make sure you spend your first day as an apprentice applying mousebile to ticks!”

Sparkpaw had no idea what mousebile was, but the disgusted sound from Graypaw convinced her she didn't want to find out. She gave a put-upon sigh, even going so far as to dramatically throw her head back. “Fiiiiine. I'll behave. For now.” Without even looking at Tigerclaw, she flicked a paw dismissively, like she was swatting away a particularly annoying gnat. “Consider yourself lucky, Stripe-butt.”

Tigerclaw growled and glared some more before finally stalking away. Spottedleaf nodded, apparently satisfied, before turning to the wide-eyed Firepaw and Graypaw. “As for you two, shoo. I need peace if I'm to treat both of these cats, and I won't get that with all these distractions!”

Both toms nodded, though Firepaw did so a bit more reluctantly. He looked at Sparkpaw for reassurance and she purred, leaning over to brush her muzzle gently over his. “Go on, go make some friends! Graypaw can give you that tour, and you can show me around later. I'll be fine.”

Firepaw nodded again, far more enthusiastically this time. “And I'm finally gonna taste mouse!” He seemed more excited about that than he did about meeting their new Clanmates. Sparkpaw's whiskers twitched in amusement as the two male apprentices bounded away.

Spottedleaf had a warm smile on her face when Sparkpaw turned to her. The medicine cat said nothing though, only ordering Sparkpaw, “Help him to my den.” She flicked her tail at Ravenpaw, like Sparkpaw wouldn't know who she was talking about. “I need to apply a poultice and bind the wound.”

Poultice? Of what? Figuring she'd find out, Sparkpaw made a show of reaching over and lightly jabbing her paw into Ravenpaw's uninjured shoulder. “Come on, Ravenpaw, wake up.” Whether he was playing along or actually had fallen asleep in the past minute, he groaned and blinked slowly at her. She gave him a Look before bluntly stating, “I'm not carrying you. You can walk.”

He groaned again but heaved himself to his paws. Sparkpaw watched carefully while still making sure to look like she didn't care as he took a few steps forward, wincing every time he put pressure on his injured side. Grumbling incoherently, Sparkpaw moved to his side and gestured for him to lean on her. She pretended to not see the grateful look he sent he

The going was slow, but eventually they did get to the den. Spottedleaf was nowhere to be seen, but Sparkpaw could hear her rummaging around through a large crack in a medium-sized boulder. Her voice echoed through a moment later. “Set him in one of the nests! I'll be out in a moment!”

Sparkpaw looked around in curiosity. There were nests made of moss and ferns set in seemingly random spots in the small shaded clearing. One was set in the fern wall itself, placed so that the fronds could be used for privacy if need be. She left Ravenpaw to his own devices to poke one of the nests with a forepaw, pleasantly surprised to find it as plush as a cushion underneath. It didn't feel anything like she'd imagined it would.

She was unaware of Ravenpaw watching her until he mumbled under his breath to himself, “It's probably not as soft as you're used to.” Sparkpaw gave him such a sharp look he flinched. “I-I didn't mean anything by it! It was just an observation, I promise!” He trailed off, keeping his eyes on his paws and sheathing and unsheathing his claws.

Sparkpaw decided he was telling the truth. He honestly hadn't meant anything by it. He looked so pitiful though that she couldn't do anything other than sneer in contempt. “Tigerclaw was right. You really are pathetic.” Ravenpaw flinched even further away at the words. “Okay, no. That's even worse. Look, when somebody insults you, insult them back. Call ‘em ugly, call their _mother_ ugly. Do literally anything _other_ than cower away and take their words.” He didn't respond, didn't even look at her, causing her to sigh heavily in annoyance. “Spirits, it's like talking to a trash can.”

That at least got his attention. “Spirits? I didn't think kittypets believed in the afterlife.” He faltered at the blank look she sent him and stuttered out, “O-or, is this being stereotypical in that I take what I think to be true and apply it to them all? L-like you told Tigerclaw, I haven't met every kittypet in the world. Actually I haven't met any kittypet in the world. You and your brother are the first, though I suppose technically I met you after you joined ThunderClan so you weren't a kittypet anymore-”

Sparkpaw started in disbelief as Ravenpaw just kept rambling. And that's what it was, rambling. At this point she didn't think even he was sure of what he was saying. It was a relief for both of them when Spottedleaf appeared, leaves in her mouth and her paw swathed in more white stuff. She waddled over to Ravenpaw first and placed her leaves down with a frown. “Your wound opened up again. I need to stop the bleeding before putting the horsetail on.”

Is that what those leaves were? Horsetail? Must be. Sparkpaw watched curiously as Spottedleaf carefully unraveled the white bundle around her leg. Finally it was too much for her to take and Sparkpaw crept forward to get a better look. Whatever it was, it was soaking up the blood like a rag would water. Sparkpaw looked up at Spottedleaf to find her concentrating once again. “What is that? How is it stopping the bleeding? How do you know if the bleeding has stopped if you can't see it?”

Spottedleaf flashed her a quick surprised look before looking back to her work. “These are cobwebs. They absorb the blood while the pressure stops the bleeding. We clean it gently afterwards to get any debris, like grass or splinters, out of it.” The cobwebs were peeled back and Spottedleaf gave a satisfied nod. “I did that earlier, so thankfully we don’t have to waste time.” She reached for some of the leaves and answered Sparkpaw preemptively. “This is horsetail. It’s used to both treat infections and keep the bleeding to a minimum. Do you want to smell them?”

Sparkpaw leaned forward eagerly and took a deep breath of the herbs. The sharp, bitter scent caught her off guard, and she backed away coughing. “Oh, oh wow, jeeze, that’s pungent.” She wheezed. She could feel her eyes watering and wiped at them with a paw to clear her version.

Spottedleaf was purring, and even Ravenpaw was smiling a little. “Yes, they are. They taste even worse and burn like fire when applied to wounds, but it’s better than having an infection.” She licked up two or three of the sprigs of green and chewed while Sparkpaw watched in morbid fascination. The mixture was spat directly onto Spottedleaf’s paw, which she used to gently work the poultice into Ravenpaw’s wound. He winced as she did so, but didn’t move away, so Sparkpaw figured maybe Spottedleaf had exaggerated. If wimpy Ravenpaw didn’t seem to mind too much, it couldn’t be THAT bad, could it?

Once that was done, Spottedleaf applied more cobwebs to the wound and left it at that. Sparkpaw didn't ask this time. She'd already made a fool of herself and refused to do it again. That vow died a swift death when it was her turn and Spottedleaf started putting the poultice into her cuts. Burned like fire was NOT an exaggeration. Sparkpaw leaped away from Spottedleaf's paws with a pained hiss. “Son of a trash-raiding dung-sniffing raccoon!” She snarled, glaring distrustfully. “I'll take my chances with the infection, thanks!”

Spottedleaf looked beyond done with her. “I told you it would hurt. It's your own fault for not believing me. Believe me now, though, this is nothing compared to how it will feel if ALL of that goes sour!” She waved a paw to gesture to all of Sparkpaw, and though she grumbled and growled, Sparkpaw stalked back into range. “That's what I thought.”

The rest of the treatment was spent in tense silence. Sparkpaw cursed and grimaced and squirmed, but didn't jump away again. “There, done.” Spottedleaf declared. “You'll be fine to train tomorrow, but I want you back here tomorrow night so I can check on them.”

Sparkpaw flicked her tail and left without a goodbye. She emerged into a different world. The sun had still been up when she'd entered the medicine den, but evening had descended while she'd been gone. Only a tiny bit of the sky was still lit up, and it was quickly darkening even as she took notice of it. Cats were still gathered around Redtail's body, but many had moved on to sleep.

At first she didn't see Firepaw anywhere, but eventually she did see him by the tree stump. He was with Graypaw, and a light ginger she-cat had joined them. More interesting, Whitestorm seemed to scolding her. A fellow troublemaker? Sparkpaw hurried over to join them, but her hopes were dashed when the she-cat dipped her head to Whitestorm and spoke smoothly. “I just didn't expect to be sharing my nest with a _kittypet_ , that's all.”

Annoyance spiked once more, and Sparkpaw switched her hurried pace to a stalking one. “And I didn't expect to share my nest with a piece of dog dung, yet here you are.” She growled with a sneer. Whitestorm seemed about to rebuke her again, but Sparkpaw cut him off with a scowl. “No. There's a difference between defending myself and being a pest just to be a pest. I'm not about to stay silent and let these cats badmouth me and my brother when we've done nothing to earn it. If SHE-” she tossed her head at the pale ginger she-cat, who growled, “-is going to insult us, I'm going to insult her back.”

She and Whitestorm stared each other down. If he was expecting an apology or for her to take it back, he would be sorely disappointed. Eventually he got the message, for he closed his eyes and sighed. “I guess I can't fault you for that.” He opened them into a sharp glare and said warningly, “But do NOT let it get physical, am I understood? You are Clanmates now, and Clanmates do not purposefully harm one another.”

Sparkpaw shrugged in compliance. “Fair enough. I won't start anything. Make HER promise the same thing and everything will be fine.”

Whitestorm set that same glare on the ginger she-cat. She tried to meet his glare like Sparkpaw did, but was soon squirming a little. _”Sandpaw.”_

Ah, so that was her name. Sparkpaw filed that away in her mind even as Sandpaw groaned and rolled her eyes. “Fine! I won't let it get physical. Not like a kittypet would even be worth it.” The only thing stopping Sparkpaw from launching herself at Sandpaw then and there were the looks of all three toms. It didn’t stop her from hissing.

Whitestorm looked satisfied when Sparkpaw made no move. “Good. Now, training starts early in the morning. All four of you should get some sleep.” He sternly looked at all of the apprentices until they nodded, even Sparkpaw. Though she did roll her eyes for good measure. He nodded back and took his leave then.

Sandpaw was the first to enter their den and Sparkpaw was the last. She entered just in time to hear Sandpaw growl, “Anywhere, so long as it’s not near me.” _’Don’t claw her, don’t claw her, don’t claw her.’_ Sparkpaw chanted to herself. She watched Firepaw make a nest larger than the others, and she slipped in beside him when he took one side of it.

The warmth at her side and the softness beneath her made it apparent just how tired she was. Her muscles ached more than they ever had before. Her eyes were already shut when she heard Firepaw whisper, “At least you can’t call me names anymore.”

She chuckled at him and whispered back, “That’s what you think. Good night, Rustbucket.” He sighed like he’d expected that, and Sparkpaw finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long. Sparkpaw did not want to cooperate.


	5. ItW 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE LOOK AT THE UPDATED TAGS.

As per usual, Sparkpaw rose just before the sun. Firepaw and Graypaw were both still snoozing, but Sandpaw’s nest was empty. She hadn’t been gone long though, by the smell. Sparkpaw debated laying back down but knew she wouldn’t be able to stay down long. Once she was awake, that was it. She was up. She left her brother and his friend to sleep and exited the den, blinking bleary eyes in the weak light of dawn.

Redtail’s body was still in the clearing, but it seemed like the vigil was over. Sparkpaw watched in morbid curiosity as a bunch of old cats gathered around it- him, sorry, him- and picked him up, sharing the weight equally. The cats that had spent the night in the open were standing around, watching the progression sadly. Both Bluestar and Sandpaw were among them, and the pain in both of their eyes made Sparkpaw think they weren’t just watching a Clanmate go.

Sandpaw was the first of the two she-cats to realize she was watching them. Her morose expression immediately shifted to a glare. Sparkpaw debated giving a cheerful smile, just to annoy her, but a glance at the red tail disappearing through the camp entrance for the last time made her think it might not be the best time for her usual shenanigans.

So instead she turned away from Sandpaw and started grooming herself. She was twisting around to wash her spine when she became aware of a shadow hovering over her. Sparkpaw righted herself with a frown and gusted a sigh when she realized the shadow was Lionheart. “Oh, it’s you.” she grumbled, going back to her bath. “What do you want? Here to humiliate me again?”

He huffed right back at her. “It was for your own good and you know it. Infections aren’t fun and can kill even the strongest warrior if left unchecked.” Sparkpaw didn’t even try to hide the mocking ‘blah blah blah’, and Lionheart growled at her. “If you’re awake enough to be this belligerent you’re awake enough to go on dawn patrol. Come on, up!”

She gaped at his retreating back but scrambled to catch up. Dawn patrol? So soon? She didn’t even know the territory yet! How was she supposed to keep up with the rest of the patrol if she didn’t know where she was going? That’s it, Lionheart was getting gutter slime in his nest. Or whatever the forest equivalent was. Maybe that mousebile stuff Spottedleaf had mentioned… But he'd certainly get something!

He led her up to three cats, all of them varying shades of brown. The smallest was a she-cat, though she was still bigger than Sparkpaw was. She was a solid pale brown color, with a large recently healed scar on her shoulder. Currently she was glaring at one of the toms in such a way that Sparkpaw instinctively knew they were siblings.

The tom on the receiving end of the glare had a mischievous smile on his face and a teasing glint in his green eyes. He was an identical shade of brown to the she-cat, but his pelt was struck through with thin tabby stripes. He wasn't the bulkiest of cats, but his legs were long and slender. Sparkpaw wanted very much to face him in a race, just to see how fast he could go.

The last cat was also a tom, and a familiar one at that. Longtail scowled away from the pair of siblings, and was the first of the three of them to realize they had an audience. He nodded at Lionheart in respect and completely turned his back on Sparkpaw, making her grip the ground with her claws in fury. Looked like Lionheart wasn't the only cat getting mousebile in their nest.

Lionheart cleared his throat to get their attention. “Everybody, I'm sure you remember, but this is Sparkpaw.” He gestured to Sparkpaw, who nodded once before going back to glaring at Longtail. “She will be joining you for dawn patrol. Sparkpaw, this is Mousefur,” here the she-cat nodded, “and Runningwind.” He chirped a friendly greeting and Sparkpaw instantly decided she liked him. “I see you remember Longtail…”

She said nothing, only growling low in her throat. Longtail sneered at her before frowning at Lionheart. “All due respect, we aren't kitsitters, Lionheart. Can't you find something else for her to do? She won't be able to keep up.”

Okay, that was it! Sparkpaw dropped into a crouch with her tail lashing, ready to pounce, when somebody came to her defense. “Ah, come on Longtail, lighten up! At least give her a chance.” He winked at Sparkpaw, and she was so surprised she dropped her guard, blinking back and sitting back up. “Personally I think you'll fit in just great. Tigerclaw was whining-” and here Mousefur shoved him, to which Runningwind rolled his eyes, “-right, sorry, I meant complaining. Tigerclaw was _complaining_ about your disrespect last night. Any cat that can call him Stripebutt to his face is alright with me!”

Sparkpaw spluttered a laugh, once more caught off guard by him. “I. Wow. I had actually forgotten about that.” She and Runningwind stared at each other for three heartbeats before she declared, “You know what? I like you. We're friends now, you have no choice in the matter.”

Runningwind chuckled with a lopsided half-grin. “No complaints here.” He looked up at Lionheart. “We'll take care of her.”

Lionheart nodded decisively. “Good. Bring her by the sandy hollow when you're done.” He looked down at Sparkpaw once more with narrowed eyes. “Listen carefully to what they say, Sparkpaw. I'm sending you to the RiverClan border this morning. They might still be sore from yesterday. Don't start anything, and above all, be careful. Understand?”

Normally Sparkpaw would have brushed him off, but even she could understand the gravity of the situation. If RiverClan wanted to take revenge for their deputy's death, now would be the time to do it. “Got it. I'll behave, for once.” She waved her tail and followed the warriors out.

The forest was only just waking up. Bird song filled the air, calling to each other in their little birdy voices. Sparkpaw paused to take a deep breath, sinking her claws deep into the earth. She hadn't been able to do that in town. The ground there was either asphalt, concrete, or freshly cut lawn. There wasn't any wild greenery like here.

“Sparkpaw?” She turned to the voice and found Runningwind looking at her curiously. Mousefur and Longtail had gone ahead. Sparkpaw smiled and ducked her head, genuinely sheepish. Curiosity turned to amusement and Runningwind chuckled lightly. “I guess to somebody not used to it, the forest could be fascinating. I'll give you a tour later, if you want?”

Her tail curled happily at the offer, and Sparkpaw trotted up to stand beside him. “That sounds way more fun than going around with stuffy old Lionheart! He'd probably be all,” she dropped her voice to try and imitate the tom in question, “‘I’m the warrior, you’re the apprentice, I’m old and grumpy and have no sense of humor so you have to do what I say and blah blah blah!’” She was satisfied to see Runningwind absolutely losing it, tripping over his own paws because he couldn’t see.

He was almost wheezing by the time they reached the other two members of their patrol. Mousefur took one look at him and heaved a sigh with a shake of the head. “Great. He’s gonna be useless for the rest of the day.” she meowed dryly, visibly unimpressed.

Seeing Runningwind was in no state to defend himself, Sparkpaw meowed sweetly, “Aw, don't be like that, Mousefur.” Pause for dramatic effect. “I'm sure he's useless all the time!”

Even Mousefur had to snort and grin at that. The only cat that didn't seem to be amused was Longtail. He aimed a scowl right at Sparkpaw before whipping around and stalking through the bushes. She made a face at his retreating back and huffed. Apparently Lionheart and Tigerclaw weren't the only cats that had no sense of humor.

Runningwind finally calmed down and shook himself. “Okay. Okay. I'm good now. Let's go.” Mousefur led them, following Longtail's trail. Sparkpaw kept step with Runningwind, trusting him to not steer her into a bush. Though if he was anything like her, that might be just asking to walk into a thornbush… “Don't let Longtail get you down too much.” Runningwind suddenly meowed. Sparkpaw swung her head around to stare at him, silently asking why in the hell she should do that. “He's not always so bad. I think your brother just wounded his pride.”

That drew a snicker and smirk from her. “He wounded more than his pride. Did you see Longtail's ear? Rustbucket nearly ripped it in half! So proud of him. Is this what it’s like for mamas seeing their kits grow up? I can ALMOST see the appeal!”

Mousefur’s voice drifted from just ahead, but she didn’t turn around to speak to their faces. “That makes one of us, at least. I have no desire for little claws digging into my side or running all over me.”

Sparkpaw brightened up considerably and trotted forward to pad at Mousefur's side, leaning down to grin in her face. “Exactly! Like, I like kits well enough, but only when they belong to somebody else. I get the fun part, they get the tantrums and bath time and the endless questions.”

There was an amused quirk to Mousefur's mouth now as she regarded Sparkpaw out of the corner of her eye. “I feel sorry for your brother in the future, then.” That was a long, LONG way into the future, but the truth of had Sparkpaw throwing her head back and laughing. She laughed until Mousefur nudged her with her shoulder. “Hush! We’re almost there, and the RiverClan cats can probably hear you laughing from camp.”

Sparkpaw was still grinning, but she nodded in understanding and dropped back to Runningwind. He was grinning as well, but he didn’t say anything. He just made a face at her, prompting her to make a face at him, and they exchanged increasingly moronic faces until Mousefur swung around to glare at them. Both warrior and apprentice gave apologetic smiles with flattened ears. As soon as her back was turned, they went back to it. The heavy sigh from Mousefur made Sparkpaw sure she knew exactly what was going on behind her back.

Eventually the three of them caught up with Longtail, who was sitting by himself beside a bramble bush. “About time!” he hissed, glaring at them. Well, glaring specifically at Sparkpaw. Her good mood evaporated, and she scowled back. “I told Lionheart you would slow us down, and I was right!”

Sparkpaw closed her eyes so as not to look at Longtail any longer. Deep breaths, Sparkpaw. Deep breaths. In, out. In, out. Maybe if she did this enough times the urge to shove him into the river would abate some. To everybody listening, she declared, “I’m going to hurt him. If he keeps going on like that, I can promise all of you: I am going. To. Hurt. Him.”

She heard Longtail snort and guessed he was about to open his big fat mouth again when Mousefur suddenly moved to stand directly between them. Sparkpaw opened her eyes and watched Mousefur move closer to Longtail. “Come on, we’ll split up.” The warrior she-cat meowed. “Longtail and I will go north. You guys take the south. When you’re finished, go to the sandy hollow like Lionheart wanted. If you see any RiverClan cats, don’t engage, alright? Come find us so we can challenge them together.”

Runningwind meowed an agreement and laid his tail across Sparkpaw’s shoulders, gently herding her downwind. She went without a fuss only because she didn’t want her new friend getting into trouble. When they were far enough out of range that she was sure they wouldn’t be heard, she growled and swiped her claws on a bush, ripping off a few leaves in her temper. “You’d think Firepaw shredding him would teach him to keep his comments to himself. Do I have to scar his OTHER ear for him to respect us?”

Her companion shrugged helplessly, watching her get her frustrations out on that one bush. “He’s not normally like this, I promise. Normally he’s pretty cool! Funny and nice and friendly and always willing to either hang out or go on a walk…”

The far-away tone of voice made Sparkpaw freeze. She slowly turned to face him and, yep, his eyes had gone misty, and that crooked grin on his face could only be the result of one thing. Sparkpaw pointed a paw at him with a disgusted face. “Ew, you have a crush on him!”

Runningwind snapped back to attention with his tail fluffed out and his eyes wide. “No I don't!” He denied, far too quickly for it to be honest. Then he seemed to falter, and he ducked his head to stare at his shuffling paws. “Would… would that be a problem, if I did?”

Sparkpaw glowered. How could he even ask that? “Of course it's a problem!” She growled, causing him to flinch. She went on though, stalking about and lashing her tail. “How could you like _him_ , of all cats? Aren't there any other eligible toms in the Clan? Lionheart, Whitestorm, Tigerclaw?” Then she stopped and shook her head wildly. “Wait, no, not Tigerclaw. He's worse. But I suppose he's better than _Darkstripe_. Spirits help whatever sad creature finds HIM attractive!”

She would have continued on with her tirade but Runningwind cut her off first. His eyes were wide with bewilderment and he seemed confused. “Wait, I mean, you don't have a problem with me? Liking other toms?”

Now Sparkpaw was equally confused. She blinked at him and tilted her head curiously. “No? Why would I?” Then she lit up with understanding. “Oh wait, is _that_ what you meant when you asked if it would be a problem? Has somebody said something about it? Because I will claw them for you, no questions asked.” She meant it, too. “It's not like that on the streets in town. You like who you like and it's nobody's business but your own. I knew a she-cat that was strictly into she-cats, a tom who was into both, even a tom who wasn't into anything. Sexualities, at least for strays, isn't a huge thing. It's as much a part of you as your tabby stripes or your eye color.”

Runningwind looked like he was about to cry. He blinked at her in equal parts intense relief and astonishment. “I think… I think we Clan cats might have underestimated the cats in twolegplace.” He meowed faintly, shaking his head. “I like both toms and she-cats, but I honestly lean more towards the former. I had kits with Dappletail once, when both of us were younger. Cricketkit and Featherkit. But both died before they were 2 moons old. Featherkit was born deaf and somehow got out. We think a fox took her. Cricketkit died of greencough the following leafbare.”

He closed his eyes and bowed his head, possibly remembering the two kits. Sparkpaw got close and pressed their sides together, trying to comfort him. But how could you comfort a cat who'd lost his kits before they even had a chance to gain personalities? She let him come back on his own and only pulled away when he did with a shake of his head. “Anyway. I think it was a sign from StarClan. I only had those kits because the Clan needed warriors, not because I wanted them or loved Dappletail or anything. So now I only set my eyes on toms.”

Sparkpaw nodded seriously. “And there's nothing wrong with that. Just because you lean more towards toms than you do she-cats doesn't erase what you are. And do you know what you are?” Runningwind shook his head and gazed at her expectantly. He was probably expecting some deep, meaningful compliment about all his virtues. Frankly the conversation had gotten far too solemn for Sparkpaw's tastes, and she did her best to shatter the tension with all the tact of a blindfolded hyperactive dog. “An idiot.” Runningwind spluttered a shocked laugh, and Sparkpaw spoke over him. “Because seriously, who looks at _Longtail_ and thinks, ‘I'm gonna bang that’?”

Runningwind was back to howling hysterically. Any prey that might have been in the area had probably fled to the other side of the forest, but Sparkpaw couldn't bring herself to regret the way Runningwind was smiling now. “You, little miss, are absolutely incorrigible.” He wheezed.

Sparkpaw snickered and nudged him. “Can't be serious for too long. Might make you think I'm a softy.” She trotted ahead in the direction Runningwind had first been heading. He caught up before she got too far and steered her in the correct direction.

They walked in comfortable silence for a bit before a repulsive smell suddenly hit Sparkpaw's nose. “Ugh, what is that smell?!” She hissed, holding her paw on front of her nose. That did absolutely nothing to block the smell. “That's worse than Spottedleaf's herbs from yesterday!”

Runningwind chuckled and flicked her ear with his tail. “That, my friend, is RiverClan. It smells like we just missed their dawn patrol, so count yourself lucky you won't have to meet them yet!” He pushed his way through some ferns, holding them to the side so she could follow. Such a gentleman. The sudden lack of shade had her blinking, and she gasped.

In front of them was a collection of large gray rocks of varying sizes. Some were on their sides and some were standing tall. A few were leaning on others, creating little pocket caves and gullies. Sparkpaw perked her ears and heard the shuffling of wee tiny paws. Prey was here, and suddenly her stomach rumbled. Lionheart hadn't let her eat before shunting her off on patrol.

Runningwind gave another amused look and whispered, “Hungry?” It's not like she could deny it. Sparkpaw nodded self-consciously, hating herself just a little for the admission, and Runningwind nodded back. “Wait here.”

He slunk out into the open on silent paws, opening his mouth to taste the air and swiveling his ears. Sparkpaw watched, fascinated. Hunting had never been Asha's strong suit and, subsequently, it wasn't Sparkpaw's either. This was the first time she'd ever seen somebody actually stalking something they planned on eating.

Runningwind suddenly darted forward and hooked his claws onto a tiny furry body and flung it in the air, in Sparkpaw's direction. She instinctively lunged forward and caught it, killing it with a bite to the neck. Then she stopped and stared at it. Was… was that technically her first kill? No, she decided. Runningwind had caught it for her. It hadn't taken any skill on her part. She hadn’t even smelled it.

Actually what was it? She looked closer and realized she didn't actually know. It was pudgy, whatever it was, with a short face and brown body and almost no tail to speak of. “Well?” Runningwind asked, coming over with his own fresh-kill. “Aren't you gonna eat it?”

Sparkpaw looked back and forth between him and the thing between her paws. She started off with a glare, “Longtail never finds out about this.” She waited for Runningwind to nod before continuing her confession. “I have no idea what this is.”

Runningwind choked on the bite he had in his mouth, and Sparkpaw had to whack him on his back to get him to spit it out. He gasped and wheezed and made a visible effort to restrain himself from wasting his precious breath on laughing. “Vole. It's a vole. How have you never seen one?”

Sparkpaw shrugged in discomfort, aware this time he was actually laughing AT her. “As you may have guessed, I spent more time going deeper into town than Firepaw did. He's the one that hung out near the forest enough to maybe recognize the critters.” She bent forward to take a bite, avoiding Runningwind's eyes at the same time. That first bite would forever implant itself in her brain as the most fantastic thing she had ever tasted.

She must have made a blissed out face or a pleased noise because Runningwind seemed far too self satisfied when he asked, “Good?” Sparkpaw nodded happily, not letting the flavors on her tongue go to waste by speaking. “I’m glad. If Lionheart doesn’t teach you hunting today, I’ll take you out later on our more in-depth tour.” She hummed again, and they finished their meals in silence. When he was done, Runningwind got to his paws. “Bury that when you’re done so it doesn’t attract any unsavory predators. You’ll learn what foxes and badgers smell like eventually.”

Made sense. For however experienced she might consider herself, she can say she'd never met a fox or badger. Sparkpaw dug a hole only just deep enough to completely bury the body and rolled it in with her nose, using her paws to pat the shallow grave flat until you could barely see where it was. Once she was satisfied, she nodded at Runningwind, and he took off at a trot with Sparkpaw dutifully following.

As they patrolled, he also gave her the rundown on RiverClan. Their leader was a large tom called Crookedstar. He had a broken jaw that he’d had for longer than Runningwind had been alive. When she asked curiously how it happened, he could only shrug helplessly. She’d only been kidding when she called him useless earlier, but now she was beginning to actually wonder.

He also told her about deputies. With Oakheart’s death, the new deputy would have been chosen at moonhigh the previous night. ThunderClan wouldn’t know who it was until either the next Gathering, which was that night, or if any of the patrols ran into each other. Sparkpaw remembered that Redtail had been deputy, and that she’d have been in the medicine den with Spottedleaf and Ravenpaw when Bluestar chose the new one. “Wait, so who replaced Redtail last night then? I didn’t hear.”

For some reason Runningwind took his time answering, swiveling his ears and flicking his eyes about, like he was scanning every inch of land for intruders. Then he casually went, “Hm? Oh, it was Lionheart. Lionheart’s our new deputy.” Then he turned to watch Sparkpaw’s reaction, and she did not disappoint.

Sparkpaw tripped and faceplanted into the ground. The cut on her nose she’d forgotten about abruptly reminded her it indeed existed, and Sparkpaw mumbled an “ow” when she picked herself up. She ignored it for the moment and spun on Runningwind with a distressed face. “Not him! He was already so bossy last night! Now he’s gonna be damn near impossible to put up with!”

Stupid Runningwing was laughing again. He’d spent so much time laughing in the little time they’d spent together Sparkpaw wouldn’t be surprised if his chest would be sore later. She glowered at him and gave him a shove, making him fall down onto his side. He made no effort to get up, laughing away. He was such a jerk! Sparkpaw was already regretting that she’d chosen him to be her best friend.

He took his time calming down too. By the time he’d settled enough to move on, Sparkpaw was just about ready to leave him. She'd take her chances getting lost in the forest, thank you very much. Runningwind wiped away an actual tear from his eye and grinned crookedly. “Okay, I’m done, I promise. I swear. No more tricks or jokes.” Sparkpaw gave him a dirty look, and he amended it sheepishly. “...For now. No more tricks or jokes for now.”

Not much better, but she’d take it. “How much farther do we need to go?” she asked, glancing up at the sky. The sun was further up than when they started, sending it’s rays stretching to the earth below. Lionheart would be expecting her soon. Not that she cared! He could rot in that Sandy Hollow place for all she cared. Because she didn’t. Care, that is.

Runningwind also glanced up to check the sun and, for some reason, winced. “Oooooh, we’re in trouble. We’re late! He’ll think the patrol is in trouble.” He glanced between the border and back into the forest and nodded decisively. “We’ve checked it well enough. The odds of something happening in the stretch of territory that we didn’t get to are like a bajillion to one.” He started off at a job and Sparkpaw had to work to stay with him. “If I run, will you be able to keep up?” he asked seriously, not looking at her.

Sparkpaw knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she couldn’t. But hey, she’d wanted to race him. Now what her chance. “Keep up? Maybe _you_ will have to keep up with _me_.” She flashed an arrogant smirk in his direction, fully intending on goading him into a challenge. The smirk on his face pulled her up short, and without a warning, Runningwind shot off. “HEY.” she yowled, barrelling after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this one. Wanna know the one who gave me trouble? Mousefur. She had so few lines you wouldn't think it.


End file.
